Resurgere ex Cineribus
by Lucidique
Summary: Before Nipton was razed to the ground, Vulpes Inculta had been given the task to observe the perverse town in order to determine their fate.  It is there that he finds a diamond in the rough, his Rhea Silvia.  Rated M for dark themes.
1. Come to Silver

_Resurgere ex Cineribus - Rise from the Ashes_

**Author's Notes- **This is my first attempt at a story centered around Vulpes, so hopefully I can make it work. He's such an interesting character, I couldn't help but give in to the urge to explore just what may be going on in that head of his. I really want to emphasize a very split personality in him. Ruthless, yet merciful. Cruel, yet gentle. Loyal, yet ambitious. I also plan to dive rather deeply into the Legion's way of living once the Nipton "arc" of this story is complete. Just a friendly warning, the story will include or mention some rather adult/dark themes including: Prostitution, drug use, slavery, sex, strong language, bondage, torture... Not exactly a walk in the park. So please, read with caution.

_Please_ leave a review and tell me how I'm doing! Praise and critique are both welcomed with open arms.

* * *

><p><em>"And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication." Revelation 17:4 <em>

Comparing the two was like comparing a violet and a rose. Two frail flowers, both rooted among the rest of the profligate filth, their sweet allure laced with disease and drugs and immorality. They stood before him like dolls on display, eyes glittering in a haze of chems. The rose was tall and shapely, boasting full rounded hips and a cinched waist under her pre-war dress. The bends of her arms were dotted with the tracks of her addiction, letting them show without a care in the world. It was disgraceful. And the violet, appearing so deceptively pristine and soft. She actually looked as if she were still in the latter part of her teenage years. Her clients must've been the lower end of the dissolute, drawn in by the seduction of taking such a sweet, young body. But there was something different about that one. While the rose put on a pretty show, it was painfully obvious that she was all used up and broken beyond repair. The violet, however, looked on quietly. Unaffected. She was far from broken, and Vulpes was struggling inwardly with the urge to pluck the little flower where she stood and pull all of her petals off until there was just nothing left.

"Girls, this is Mr. Fox. He'll be staying in our little town for a few days," explained Mayor Steyn, a slippery man with such lax ethics it made his present company's stomach churn. Steyn stood behind the women, nudging them a step or two closer to their new guest. "How 'bout one of you make him feel a little more at home?"

It was the rose who spoke first, pushing her way past the coy little violet. Her demeanor suggested pride and vanity, painted up like the whore she was. She tucked wavy auburn hair behind her ears and out of her face, using her free hand to brush against the man's shirt collar. For a split second, she could've sworn that he actually shuddered at her touch. If only she knew that it wasn't out of excitement or even fear, but disgust. "I'm Rosie," she purred, curling her fingertips around a lock of her hair.

Vulpes narrowed his eyes and smiled politely. How ironic. "Rosie," he repeated. "Your name is quite fitting." Roses. So overwhelmingly popular in a romantic sense in pre-war times. So over-used. Violets were much more appealing to the Frumentarius. He turned his gaze to the other woman. "And you?"

She hesitated a moment to reply, but didn't look away from the man's cool blue eyes. "...Sylvia," the girl finally told him.

"Hey, why don't ya take 'em both?" Steyn interrupted, laughing hardily. He squeezed between the girls, snaking an arm around their waists. "We could even work out a discount, if you wanted the extra company. Whattya say, Mr. Fox?"

A tempting offer. Vulpes was more than capable of handling two at a time. In his head, he imagined how easy it would be to take both of these whores and turn them against one another, literally fighting one another for his attention. Women such as these were easy to trick, and had virtually no loyalty to anyone except the one who held the coin before them. The man had several unique talents, being a master manipulator counted among them. Even Caesar himself noted how easily Vulpes broke in slaves, in the very rare instance he took them. The impressive, although slightly disturbing, thing was that he did so without having to resort to beatings, or even forcing himself upon them. He took some of the most resistant captures, ones that others would rather just kill than have to deal with, and broke them psychologically, completely and totally.

He looked over the two once more, carefully taking in every detail of their behavior, before he answered. "Mr. Steyn, it's a generous offer, but I think I only have use for _this_ one," Vulpes told the man, eyeing the one named Sylvia.

Steyn nodded, giving him a knowing smile. "Ahh, I see. So you like 'em young," he mused, gently stroking the girl's long, dark hair.

Vulpes was slightly intrigued by Sylvia's reaction to her pimp's touch, the way she twitched in disgust and nonchalantly tilted her head to the side, all in an effort to escape his slimy grasp. She smiled a sweet, almost genuine smile at Vulpes, quickly slinking away from Steyn and approaching him.

"I-I've never done this before. You'll be gentle with me, right?" she said, sheepishly batting her eyes. Quite the actress. There was something very unique about this one, and she might have that ignorant man and her fellow whore fooled, probably even the rest of this cesspool town, but she didn't fool Vulpes.

"I promise you, my dear. I will be _anything _but gentle with you," Vulpes assured her in a cold, even tone.


	2. The Violet Fire

Sylvia had seen a thing or two in her line of work, ranging from peculiar to disturbing, but this Mr. Fox was certainly something new. If all of the patrons that passed through Nipton had one thing in common, it was that they were all dirty. In every aspect of the word, they were devoid of anything clean about them. Luckily for Sylvia, most of them were also cheap, opting for the 30 cap quickie rather than the higher priced choices. Her current companion, however, actually looked like he bathed more than once a month. She'd consider him rather handsome if she wasn't so unnerved by him. His face was clean shaven, his fingernails were free of dirt, he didn't smell like cheap liquor, and Sylvia was pretty sure he'd handed over about 150 caps, which meant she was his for the night. She knew it'd been a bad idea not to take that last hit of jet when she had the chance...

After paying Steyn a small fortune, Vulpes led her to his rented hotel space and took her inside. She watched as he removed and folded his coat with mechanical, methodic movements before carefully placing it on the dresser. Was that supposed to be a cue for her to strip? He certainly didn't waste any time. Sylvia turned her back and lifted her hands to her top, fingers working at the buttons, but was abruptly startled by a pair of strong hands around her wrists.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Vulpes calmly questioned, forcing her hands back down to her sides.

She looked over her shoulder and was again caught in the man's intense gaze. Something about his eyes made her feel exposed, like he was peering directly into her thoughts when he looked at her. "Oh. I'm sorry, I just... I just thought you'd want me to take-"

"That isn't necessary," he interrupted, releasing her from his grasp. His hands slowly wandered up her arms and along her collarbone, little ripples of gooseflesh appearing in their wake, before he stopped at her chest. Her heart was fluttering, he noted. Carefully, he fastened the few buttons she'd managed to undo. "Now, Miss Sylvia, you may have a seat," Vulpes instructed her, pushing her gently in the direction of the tattered double bed.

Sylvia sat at the foot of the bed, but Vulpes remained standing before her. After a moment, she looked back up at him, and again he was staring right back at her. Sylvia gritted her teeth as she scanned the room, trying desperately to escape his eyes, only to be drawn right back into them. Just what exactly was this man's kink? Did he spend all those caps just to _stare_ at her? She had to endure worse before, but this was getting annoying, and she'd only been in his company for less than 20 minutes. "Mr. Fox, won't you let me do something for you?" Sylvia asked finally, putting on her best semblance of a pouty face. "You're starting to make me feel like you don't want me."

Vulpes smirked. Exactly how far could she carry this act? Perhaps it was time to see. Without a word, he sat down beside her, so close that their shoulders were brushing against each other. Sylvia tensed at the contact, so slightly that most wouldn't have even given it a moment's thought, but Vulpes noticed it. He inched even closer into her personal space, the way a lover would, now resting one of his hands on her thigh and pressing his mouth against the nape of her neck. She inhaled sharply at the faintest sensation of teeth grazing against her throat, not because it felt good, but because it was the first breath she'd taken since he sat next to her. The hand on her thigh slowly drifted upward and under her top, groping at one of her breasts with increasingly rough strokes. It was then that Sylvia closed her eyes in an attempt to block some of this, _any of this_, out. She tried to think of pictures she'd seen in books as a child, vivid memories of ocean and sky and mountains. Anywhere but here. Fantasies of an imaginary man started to blur her connection with reality, one that she had many times since coming to Nipton. She couldn't distinguish any features of his face, she just knew that he was kind. He held her tightly in such a way that she knew she was safe with him, that he'd make her forget about things she just didn't want to remember. It was this faceless friend that helped keep Sylvia's mask from slipping.

"...Open your eyes."

That voice, so cold and devoid of emotion, plucked her from her safe place, leaving her alone again with his searing gaze.

"What's wrong, my dear? Don't you want to look at me?" Vulpes continued in a mocking tone, running a finger against Sylvia's cheek.

She remained still as he raked a fingernail across her skin, hard enough to leave a faint red trail. "I was just thinking of all the things I wanted you to do to me, that's all," she lied, breathing an inward sigh of relief and keeping her gaze fixed on the door as he withdrew his hand. Sylvia couldn't believe it, she had finally encountered someone's touch she detested even more than Steyn's.

Vulpes arched an eyebrow. "And just what do you want me to do to you?" he asked, letting an almost sadistic grin wash over his features. Before Sylvia could react, he grabbed her, wrapping his hand around the underside of her jaw and dangerously close to her throat, twisting her head in his direction. "Indulge me," he told her flatly, taking in the momentary look of panic in her eyes with a sick satisfaction. He watched as her lips parted once more, eager to hear just what she had to say in reply. Instead, he was _shocked_ as a mouthful of spit spattered against his left eye and cheekbone. Such brazen behavior from a woman would've had her scourged at the very least by Legion standards. She was more spirited than he had anticipated.

Sylvia ripped herself from his grasp, wincing as the man's nails dug into her skin once more, this time leaving deep, bloody scratches across her jaw and chin. "You bastard! You think you can just come in here and _look _at me like I'm some fucking toy!" she exploded, springing to her feet. Everything inside screamed for her to run for the door, just run away and don't stop. But seeing that almost _amused _look on his face as he wiped the spit from his face sent her flying into another fit of anger. The words were seething up so quickly in her head that she just couldn't process them fast enough to string together any insult to fling at him, choosing instead to step closer to Vulpes and _backfist _him right in that smug little mouth of his.

That was the first time a woman, let alone some lowly whore, had ever dared to strike him, and for a moment Vulpes was actually at a loss for words. The look of pure disgust and contempt in her eyes was nothing short of beautiful to him. He was confused by the strange heat building within him, boiling somewhere deep inside, causing him to almost lose his composure. Was it rage? Or perhaps something else? Without hesitation, he caught her fist before she could pull it back and used her weight as leverage to pull himself to his feet. She struggled to free herself, twisting and writhing like an animal caught in a trap, but was stilled in an instant once Vulpes sent her tumbling to the floor.

"Where I come from, my darling little Sylvia, there are severe penalties for what you just did," he calmly explained, pressing his forearm roughly against the enraged girl's throat. "I suggest you calm yourself before I'm forced to _chastise _you."

"...You don't scare me," she hissed through strained breath. "You make me _sick_, you're nothing but fuckin' degenerate filth!"

Vulpes paused a moment to fully appreciate the irony of her words. This whore was calling _him _filth? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "You're rather sour for a whore, aren't you?" he scoffed, delighting in the way his words twisted her delicate features. "Tell me, exactly how many men do you win over with such flattery?"

"Go to Hell, Fox," Sylvia simply replied, making another futile attempt at freeing herself.

"...Vulpes," he corrected her, grinning in a way that made her skin crawl.

Sylvia eyed him suspiciously. "Excuse me?"

"My name. You may call me Vulpes."

"Alright. Get the fuck off of me, _Vulpes_."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes- <strong>Sylvia is a fun character to write so far. Hopefully you guys are enjoying her as well. Reviews let me know if things are going smoothly! Let me know if there's something I can improve on!


	3. See All You Were

Mayor Steyn was very paranoid about his property being stolen from him, and rightfully so. He wasn't stupid, he knew the place was a den of thieves. So naturally, he took the necessary precautions, stockpiling nearly everything he owned in a storage room behind his desk. Everything else, ranging from junk food to a surplus of chems, was placed in a locked cellar in the ground floor of the town hall. The cellar also served as a holding pen for his two most prized possessions when they weren't being loaned out. Sylvia didn't see much of Rosie in her spare time down there. No, Rosie wore her scarlet letter with an almost sickening pride, always eager to earn an extra few caps or dose of Med-X. She was the star of Steyn's show, while Sylvia was content to remain somewhere in the background.

However, the day had started out pretty slow, and both girls were present, sitting on opposite sides of a ragged couch.

"...So, let me get this straight. You spent the entire night _talking_ to that guy?" Rosie finally asked, breaking the silence between the two. She shifted her weight and crossed her legs, ankle to knee. Just like a lady.

Sylvia continued nibbling on her thumbnail, mumbling an _'mmm hmm' _in response.

"I don't believe you," the redhead stated. She took one last drag of her cigarette, burning it all the way down to the filter. "No one gets cuts and bruises from just talking, honey," she continued with a girlish giggle, snuffing the remains out into a nearby ashtray.

"He didn't do this to me," Sylvia insisted, brushing her fingertips against a healing bruise on the side of her face. She was telling the truth. It was Steyn who'd given her that one, a warning shot he called it. It wasn't the first time she'd been on the receiving end of one. It also wasn't the first time she'd been reprimanded for getting physical in all the wrong ways with a customer. The scratches on her jaw, however, were indeed courtesy of Mr. Fox. _Vulpes_.

She tried in vain to block out the image of his face as it slowly seeped into her thoughts. The man was insane, Sylvia concluded. After their little _altercation_, he'd simply stood up and offered his hand to help Sylvia to her feet. She "politely" refused, swatting his hand away and cursing at him. For a moment, the two stood in an awkward silence before Vulpes finally implored her to sit back down.

_You may sit on the sofa, if being near a... dissolute such as myself makes you so uncomfortable. I simply wish to talk with you_, he had told her.

Their conversation started out shaky at best. Sylvia was still wary of the stranger she'd _assaulted _a few minutes before. No harm came to her though, and Sylvia slowly found herself answering all of Vulpes's inquiries, most of them reguarding the town and its residents. It wasn't everyday she got the oppertunity to voice her dislike of certain people, and oddly enough this Vulpes character seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. She told him about Steyn, taking no measure to hide her hatred of the man, warning him that he was not a man to be trusted. Then there were the idiots who called themselves "Powder Gangers", just a bunch of sexually frustrated criminals. The NCR troops, so high on their moral horse they thought the whores should be free for them, since they were doing such a wonderful job of keeping the Mojave Wasteland a safe haven. Big Jim and Little Jim; they didn't bother her that much, but only because they were too busy with each other to fool around with any whores. She was more disturbed by the fact that, despite a slight difference in size, the two men were _identical_. The one who made her sick was Tony. Just saying his name sent a wave of nausea rippling down to her stomach. He'd hired her once, Sylvia explained, but proved to be too much for her to tolerate once he told her to wear a tattered dress better suited for a child and asked if he could call her Nancy. She'd remembered Steyn saying that the freak had a daughter named Nancy, but the girl had disappeared before Sylvia came to Nipton. Though sick, he was also spineless, taking heed to Sylvia's warning of castration if he so much as looked at her ever again.

Vulpes had listened intently to everything she had to say, his expression never straying very far from unreadable. She noticed a slight scowl form upon the mention of the NCR and an even deeper look of disdain for some of Nipton's permanent residents.

_This place, the whole town... It's like a sickness_, she finally said.

Her words seemed to resonate to his very core, as if she'd reached into his thoughts and spoke them aloud. His features relaxed and softened, lips parting slightly in an expression that Sylvia could only describe as enthralled. Sylvia couldn't help but be a little puzzled by his reaction. He was in this place, just like the rest of them. He'd rented her out and laid his hands on her, just like the rest of them. She just couldn't read him and those indifferent eyes didn't help in her endeavour.

"Sylvia? Hello? You there?" Rosie called, leaning toward Sylvia and snapping her fingers before her eyes.

Sylvia blinked, visibly startled. She turned to Rosie, trying to shake _him _from her thoughts.

Rosie arched an eyebrow and grinned. "Damn, just what kinda chem did Joseph give you to zone out like that? And does he have anymore he could give me?" she teased, settling back into her side of the couch. "Or were you just thinking about your new boyfriend? He's a fine lookin' piece of ass, I'll give 'em that."

"... If you say so," Sylvia replied, rolling her eyes.

"Well, don't get too attached just yet. Joseph wants _me _to go see him today, try'n make up for the little..." Rosie stifled a laugh. "The _mishap_ a couple days ago with you."

Good. Good _riddance_. Just let Rosie take care of him so she could be left alone. Rosie liked being a whore, she made her bed so let her lie in it. Sylvia squirmed in her seat. A pang of guilt suddenly rose up within her, inwardly cursing herself for being so quick to offer another in her place. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell Rosie to be careful around him, but was cut short as the cellar door swung open.

"Rosie! I thought I told you to get your ass over to that Fox prick!" Steyn bellowed from the doorway, glaring down at the two girls. "How 'bout you do what I tell you before something _bad_ happens to you..." His gaze fell upon Sylvia as he'd uttered the last few words.

"Oh! Sorry, Joseph honey. I... I didn't know you wanted me to go so soon," Rosie explained frantically, darting up and across the room. She tried to slink past Steyn, flinching as he grabbed her by the arm and spun her back around to face him.

"You make sure n' do whatever the hell he wants you to. Got it?" he told her in a low, firm tone before releasing her.

Rosie nodded sheepishly. "O-Of course, Joseph. Anything at all," she promised him, wringing her wrist. Cautiously, she stepped away, disappearing from view.

Sylvia looked on, hoping desperately that Steyn would excuse himself just as quickly as he'd barged in. It was never that easy though, as Steyn turned to her once Rosie was gone. He lit a cigarette as he strolled over to her, a smirk curling the corners of his mouth. That smug expression didn't bode well for Sylvia.

"Don't get so comfy, slugger. You got somewhere you need to be too," he said, blowing a mouthful of smoke in her direction. Steyn chuckled to himself as he took another drag. "A fellow named Boxcars is _very _eager to meet you, sweetheart. I told him how feisty you are, but he said it was alright with him. Said he liked taming wild animals, or some stupid shit like that."

"... How long?" Sylvia willed away the urge to _vomit _all over the man as he stood before her. She was pretty sure she'd seen the guy Steyn spoke of in town yesterday. Another one of the Powder Gangers, just as filthy and lewd as all the others were.

"Oh, you'll be entertaining him for a couple hours. Guess he's got a little more stamina than the rest of the convicts, huh?" He tapped his wrist where a wristwatch should've been. "C'mon, he's waitin' for you down in the trailers. Time is caps!"

Reluctantly, Sylvia rose to her feet. _I hope you burn one day_, she thought to herself as she stared deep into the man's eyes. _And I hope I'm there to watch._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes- <strong>I promise Vulpes will actually be in the next chapter. I just felt Sylvia needed a tad of fleshing out on her own. Lots of fun stuff planned for the future, so stay tuned! And a special thank you to all of you guys who have taken the time to review! =D


	4. Discipline

**Author's Notes - **First, let me take a moment to thank the lovely Ms. Shadow-Ocelot for beta'ing this chapter for me, and for giving me some awesome pointers. She's amazing, you guys. Go read her stuff. You will not be disappointed. And while we are on the subject of awesome people... Fortunesque is a great writer and bouncing ideas around with her has helped me tremendously. I heart you guys.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review! It makes me happy to know people actually like my work! /end fluffy rant

* * *

><p>She wasn't like the other whore, shamelessly throwing herself at him. That one, he'd forgotten her name already. His peace offering from Mayor Joseph Steyn. Vulpes refused the other one, despite her adamant pleas. He had no use for one that was already broken, a lost cause.<p>

It was impulsive, his fascination with her. Vulpes wouldn't deny that fact. His instincts, his ability to know and understand people before they even uttered a word to him, were always correct. Yet this one, she'd surprised him. Instead of being a dissolute whore under the guise of an innocent, she seemed to merely be a victim of poor circumstances. Forced to do things that she wanted no part of, it made him curious to know why she was even there in the first place. Everything in him, all the discipline and well thought out planning that had been instilled in his way of life, so quickly he forgot about it on a whim. This sweet little girl, so strong yet so weak... She _needed _him. The emotion that had taken him when she'd struck him, it wasn't the standard swell of anger most would expect. No, it was something that stirred within Vulpes even still, robbing him of sleep for the past two nights. A consuming, delirious pulsing that kept his body tense and dampened with sweat. A fervent sense of _pride_ spattered against corded stomach muscles.

Vulpes loosened his tie and unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt. His clothing stuck loosely to parts of his body and his tongue scratched roughly against the roof of his mouth. When had it become so hot in his room? He looked over to the window from his spot on the sofa and was thankful to see the waning sunlight. It would cool off a little within the next couple of hours or so. Maybe what he needed at the moment was a quick stroll. Perhaps that would clear his mind.

The air was slightly less stifling outside, thankfully. A weak breeze brushed against his face as he walked, cooling the perspiration sticking to his temples. Maybe he should go to Mayor Steyn. He needed to thank him for his thoughtful, albeit unwanted gift. It was only common courtesy.

* * *

><p>To say that the mayor's office was an unpleasant place to be was an understatement. Vulpes could handle the stench of infected wounds, decomposing flesh and even burning corpses, but this he could not. The room's atmosphere was fitting for its inhabitant though, a sickening aura of stale cigarettes, cheap alcohol, sweat and sex clinging to every cracked wall and floorboard.<p>

Steyn was a bit surprised at Vulpes's arrival, springing from the seat behind his desk. "Mr. Fox! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he said, waving his guest over to a seat closer to him. "Please, come and sit."

"Thank you," Vulpes replied as he sat down. "I simply wanted to come to you and apologize for any misunderstanding my coming here may have caused."

"That's not necessary," Steyn told him. His attention was drawn to the man's lower lip and the barely visible bruise that spanned about half of it. "Damn, she got you good, didn't she? I'm really sorry about that."

The memory came creeping back into his thoughts. "...Think nothing of it," Vulpes finally said, though it wasn't entirely clear whether he was speaking to Steyn or himself.

Mayor Steyn shifted in his seat. "That little bitch's more trouble than she's worth sometimes," he grumbled. "Doesn't have the common sense to lay down and spread her legs." He chuckled a bit under his breath, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow before it trickled down into his eyes. "Still in the process of breakin' her in, you see. Gotta keep her hopped up on jet so she doesn't end up kicking the guy's ass sometimes... No offense, of course."

He'd figured as much, but actually hearing the words tumbling so carelessly from Steyn's mouth... The taint of addiction was a serious one to the Legion and one that Vulpes took especially seriously. The poison that flowed in her veins was a disease, a slow death. This man, no- This _degenerate _was guilty of raping her in more ways than one. All crimes will be punished accordingly; he repeated the words like a mantra in his head. "Of course," Vulpes repeated rather flatly. There was a small pause between the two. He'd faltered, letting the smallest amount of disgust lace into his voice, and Steyn had noticed.

"I-Uh... Look, Fox," he stuttered, fidgeting in his seat. "I don't want us gettin' off on the wrong foot or anything. I tried sending you Rosie to, y'know. Make amends. But she comes storming back in here saying you wanted nothing to do with her."

"The offer was appreciated, but not necessary," Vulpes told Steyn, taking great care in calming the strain in his words.

"You sure? She's a firecracker in the sack. Real open-minded. Flexible too." Steyn snorted, leaning back into his chair. "You wouldn't be disappointed with that one."

The Frumentarii leader, again, refused. "I'm afraid she just isn't my type," he said. Vulpes needed more of a challenge than what Rosie could provide. _Rosie_. Maybe he would remember her name this time.

Steyn shrugged. "Your loss, my friend. If gettin' smacked around is your thing, I'm in no position to judge," he laughed, lacing his hands behind his head as he lounged backward. "Hell, why don't you take Sylvia for another ride?" he joked, a wide grin stretching across his lips. "I bet she's fired up n' ready to go about now..." Steyn figured that Boxcars character wouldn't let him down. After all, they had a deal. A free go at Sylvia, and all the Powder Ganger had to do was rough her up a little. She needed to be taught her place, and that place was under Mayor Joseph Steyn's thumb.

That telltale crooked smirk was all the mayor needed to see to realize perhaps he'd said a bit too much.

"C'mon, Fox. You can't be serious," Steyn said, straightening his posture. "Now, don't think those marks all over her face went unnoticed. It's kinda hard to move damaged goods like that, y'know." He sighed at the man's unwavering expression. Maybe playing the role of _concerned_ ol' Joseph wasn't what the situation called for. Besides, no one believed that shit for a second anyway. No, if Mr. Fox wanted another shot at Sylvia, he was going to have to pay for it. "I'm gonna have to pick up some antiseptic for that face of hers, don't want it scarring or anything. That stuff costs a pretty penny..."

Vulpes pulled a small pouch from his side and tossed it onto Steyn's desk. It fell open upon impact, and a few caps came rolling out. "Count it out, if you wish," he instructed the man.

Caps of all sorts tumbled out of the bag, even a few of those Sunset Sarsaparilla star caps. Those could go for quite a bit just by themselves. Steyn counted them up with meticulous care, going as far as separating them into their own different groups, because old habits die hard. He finally looked back up at Vulpes and narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "There's almost 350 caps here, Mr. Fox," he stated, trying his best to hide the grin curling the ends of his lips. Gotta love the rich, fucked up types.

"Is that enough to quell any concerns you may have?" Vulpes asked.

Steyn glanced down at the pile of caps once more before answering. "Sylvia's down in the trailers with some fuck named Boxcars. Go get her, and she's all yours."

* * *

><p>As Vulpes stepped quietly through the court, he couldn't help but notice the activities going on within some of the ravaged trailers. They did little to provide any sort of shelter, much less privacy. The dissolute feeding their addictions, whether they be chemical or carnal. His attention was drawn to one trailer in particular as the flimsy screen door, or what was left of the door, flew open. A familiar face came scrambling out, a subtle glimmer of terror pinching her features. Sylvia stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him, obviously confused by his presence in such a place. A sudden wave of shame overtook her upon his inspection of her disheveled appearance, prompting Sylvia to wrap her arms around herself in some weak attempt at decency. No, not like this. He wasn't meant to see her like this.<p>

The look in her pale hazel eyes gave Vulpes a sick feeling deep inside. It made his chest ache and his stomach twist into knots. He'd felt this before, both before and after his life in the Legion's service began, this overwhelming sense of _pity_. He kept such emotions hidden as best he could. Caesar had no room for such mercy in his Legion.

A dark-skinned man exited shortly after, struggling with the button on his pants. He was an abhorrent excuse for a man, stomping and yelling like some sort of neanderthal. This must have been Boxcars. Vulpes noticed the belt he held in his hand. The Frumentarius didn't need to analyze the situation much further to understand what was going on. This subhuman was going to pay the consequences for touching, not to mention abusing, something Vulpes had already marked as his own.

"Where the fuck do ya think you're going, you little bitch?" the man growled, catching Sylvia by her hair as she struggled to escape him. He pulled her back roughly, and Sylvia tried her best to bite back a yelp of pain. Boxcars pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered obscene warnings involving that belt if she didn't settle down. Vulpes took an involuntary step toward them, catching the man's attention. "Mind your own business if you know what's good for ya, friend. This is between her and me," he warned him. A Powder Ganger making petty threats against a servant of the Legion? The man's ignorance was the only thing that kept his neck from being snapped right then and there.

Sylvia seized the opportunity the instant Boxcars had been distracted. She felt as if her scalp was on fire, freeing herself with one last painful tug. "Better luck next time, lover," she muttered as she hurried away from him. Vulpes seemed to be her only alternative. She approached him hesitantly, and not a moment too soon.

"Smart-mouthed cunt," Boxcars seethed, following Sylvia in strides. "Just don't know when to shut the fuck up, do ya?" He raised his belt high in the air, fully intending to let Sylvia have it right on the exposed skin of her back; she had it coming to her.

Vulpes stepped in front of Sylvia, much to her surprise, his eyes still on the belt in the man's hand. _Give me cause, Profligate_. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little disappointed when the Powder Ganger adopted a more passive stance, lowering his hand and taking a step back. "Is that really any way to speak to a lady?" Vulpes asked, smirking inwardly.

"And just who are you? Her daddy?" Boxcars asked, still keeping his distance. "Me n' her still got some things to settle..."

For a moment, Vulpes imagined what this man's head would look like on a pike, his terrified expression immortalized in his dead eyes for all his fellow wastrels to see. Or how he'd twitch and choke just so if his throat were slit. Perhaps he'd get the chance to see in the near future. Vulpes smiled. "Oh, this girl belongs to _me _for the night. Mr. Steyn informed me that your time was up," he explained. "So any settling you need to do with her will just have to wait until another day, I'm afraid."

Boxcars looked at Vulpes like he was crazy. Didn't he know who he was? He was a man not to be fucked with, that's who he was. "Look, man. I don't know who the hell you are, and I really don't fuckin' care," he spat, giving the esteemed Legion officer a rough shove. Vulpes didn't waver, and a spark of frustration flickered in the Powder Ganger's eyes. "I suggest you just go back where you came from before I get mad," he warned, grabbing him by the jacket collar.

"...And I suggest you remove your hands before I break all of your fingers," Vulpes replied, unblinking. "I will not extend you the courtesy of another warning."

It didn't take long for Boxcars to lose his nerve, seemingly helpless under the other man's sharp gaze. He let go finally, muttering obscenities under his breath while taking a couple steps away from the two. "Steyn made a deal with me," he complained.

Vulpes scowled at the man's remark as he straightened his collar. "Then take it up with him," he deadpanned.

"Oh, you better fuckin' believe it, I will! Some little faggot thinks he can just walk up n' steal my piece of ass, shit..." Boxcars grumbled, fuming. He wasn't even stringing together a rational sentence anymore. The Powder Ganger disappeared back into the trailer he'd come out of, slamming the door so hard that it was almost too much for the hinges to withstand.

He was no longer a concern to Vulpes. The man was just an ignorant, foul-mouthed coward. He turned to Sylvia and gently pushed her into the direction they needed to be going. "Come now, Sylvia," he told her as they walked. "Nothing more for you here."

Sylvia followed him silently until they were out of the trailer court, pausing after they'd made it past the gate. "...So, what exactly is going on here?" she finally asked.

Vulpes looked over to her once more, this time finally noticing just what kind of shape she was in. Her dress was torn open at the chest, leaving Sylvia struggling to keep it closed herself. Thick red marks spanned most of her neck, as if someone had been choking her. Similar welts were scattered along what was visible of her legs; Vulpes imagined that the majority of them lay hidden under what was left of her dress. "Exactly what I said to your... gentleman caller. I paid for your company tonight, so I came to collect you," he explained.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Sylvia said, frowning. "Not until you tell me just what the hell you're doing."

"Do not make me drag you, my dear."

"Try me, Fox." She stood her ground, crossing her arms like a pouting child. "...Or Vulpes. Whatever the hell your name is."

Vulpes couldn't help but find her resolve entertaining. "I have missed our engaging conversations," he told her, smirking.

She glared at him suspiciously. "Sure you have," she mumbled.

"Whether you believe me or not is of no concern to me, " Vulpes chided. "And I was serious about dragging you."

Sylvia bit her bottom lip, lost for words for a moment. It was either go with this guy or spend some more quality time with Boxcars. "...Tch, whatever. Let's just go and get this over with, okay?"


End file.
